


But First, a Sweet Kiss

by vivilove



Series: Jonsa Summer Challenge 17 [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Implied Past Abuse Mentioned, Jonsa Summer Challenge, Mild Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-23 19:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: Jon and Sansa have married for love of their family and duty to their House.  But as they face consummating their marriage on their wedding night, they must clear the air of some misunderstandings.Originally posted on Tumblr for the Jonsa Summer Challenge.  Day 7 Prompt-Free Choice





	But First, a Sweet Kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts), [MissEmmanuelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/gifts).



> A gift for Amy & Elle for being the awesome mods of this challenge. Thank you, lovely ladies!
> 
> This is a similar premise as "For the Sole Purpose of Procreation" which I posted a few days ago. I started that one but then finished this one first and decided I liked both enough to post. This one is more show 'verse since Sansa's been married to Ramsey. But it's me so just like the other, it's ultimately sweet, gooey fluff with feels and a just a bit of smut.

Jon slammed the door shut in the leering crowd’s faces and bolted it, biting off a curse as he heard her startled gasp. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, urging himself to regain his composure.

He’d been irritated by the bedding ceremony. He had not wanted it but had been convinced to go along with it by his advisors much to his chagrin. The lords and knights had left Sansa in her shift at least. They had not stripped her bare as he had feared they might despite his instructions. _My thinly veiled threats might have helped as well_.

The ladies on the other hand…he clutched the ruined ties of his small clothes to keep from losing them completely. Those and his torn tunic were all they had left him.

He looked over his shoulder at his bride. His beautiful half-sister that was in truth his cousin…and now his wife. Her long, fiery red hair covered her shoulders and hung down past her teats.

She had been staring at him but quickly averted her lovely blue eyes. He blushed when he realized she had been looking at him in his state of undress but then he worried that perhaps she had not liked what she had seen.

Sansa sat gingerly on the edge of the bed with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on the floor.

Jon was nervous but she was more so. However, she could not help looking at him when his back had been turned. His muscular thighs were exposed and his small clothes and ripped tunic were all that covered the rest of him. His hair was pulled from its tie, loose and wild.

“Sansa…” he began, taking a tentative step towards her.

“I’m ready, my king,” she said flatly, sinking back onto the bed...like a sack of grain.

Jon groaned inwardly. Did she honestly think he’d want to do it when she was obviously distressed and dreading this?

Sansa willed herself to uncross her arms and allowed her fingers to toy with the furs she laid on. She closed her eyes and told herself it would not be the same. She was not a maid but she feared this. In her experience, there was no pleasure to be found in this act. All she had ever experienced of it was pain.

 _Jon will not hurt me. He will be gentle. It won’t be so bad_.

“Don’t,” he said in a strangled voice. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that when we are here like this. Sansa, we don’t have to consummate our marriage. We can share the bed and just sleep. I can hold you as a brother would if you like…or I can place my sword between us if you prefer. No one ever need know.”

“They’ll expect heirs, Jon. We will need heirs. It’s part of why we agreed to do this,” she said, sitting back up to look at him.

Jon rolled his eyes at his foolishness. Of course, Sansa would be practical. Heirs were expected. A king was expected to bed his queen and make little princes and princesses.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart ached with longing at the thought of that. He wanted that…children of his own, children with Sansa. He wanted that very much but not if she didn’t want it, too.

“We don’t have to make any heirs tonight. We can sit and talk and sleep as you wish,” he said in what he hoped was a calm and reassuring tone.

Why was he being so accommodating? She feared coupling with him but she had thought perhaps with Jon it wouldn’t be so bad. But this seemed too easy. Why shouldn’t he wish to bed her? Didn’t men naturally take that whenever it was offered? She was his wife. He was her king. He could take her whenever he wanted. Why was he acting as though he didn’t want it?

 _Because he doesn’t. He knows about you. You shared too much when you were reunited and now he’s disgusted by the thoughts of lying with you_.

“Don’t you want me?” she asked as steadily as she could. She would not cry in front of him.

Jon sighed and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “I do. Gods, I want you, Sansa, though I feel wretched for saying so.”

“Why?”

“You’re my…”

“I’m your cousin. We’re not siblings.”

“We grew up believing we were. It’s hard for me to forget that.”

“It is for me as well.”

“It’s more than that though. I don’t wish to hurt or frighten you.”

“Jon…I’m not a maid. I know what this involves. And, they’ll still expect evidence that we’ve coupled tonight.  There won't be any blood but they'll expect some…”

“I can take care of that,” he said blushing furiously. “Later…once you’re asleep.”

Her own cheeks flamed in response. He would rather take himself in hand than bed her. Her husband did not want her. Her vow not to cry was broken, just like that.

Jon’s eyes widened in alarm and distress. She was crying now. _Gods! What do I do?_

“Sansa…please don’t cry. I’m an idiot and I’ve hurt you now without meaning to. I’m sorry my suggestion repulsed you. I shouldn’t have spoken of such filthy things in your presence.”

“I’m not crying because of that! I’m crying because…” She sniffled and sighed before she finished. “I’m crying because you’d rather do _that_ than bed me. You didn’t repulse me. I repulse you. Just admit it! You know I’m used and…”

“No, my sweet. That’s not it,” he said, crossing to sit beside her now. He still awkwardly held onto the front of his small clothes but he had one hand free to stroke her cheek. He wiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb and brought it to his lips to taste the salt of them. “That’s not it at all. How could you repulse me? You’re the most beautiful woman in the world in my eyes. I just didn’t want to push for this. I could never force myself on you. I know how…forgive me…I know how unpleasant your experiences have been. And I know you agreed to this marriage out of love of our family and a desire to help solidify our position in the North. I confess I allowed myself to agree to it because of those reasons as well. But it would taste a lie to say it wasn’t what I wanted.”

Sansa touched his hand and was pleased when he grasped it and gently squeezed. Perhaps she was mistaken to think he did this merely out of duty. Perhaps love had grown in his heart for her just as it had in her heart for him.

“I…I agreed out of love of family and duty but I…I wanted this, too. I’ve wanted this for a while now, Jon,” she said, daring to meet his eye. “I should like a true marriage like Mother and Father had. One based on love, support of one another and trust.  But I should also like to know my husband would lay with me because he wanted me and not out of obligation.”

“I want nothing more than to build that sort of marriage with you. And I would consider myself blessed every day from now until the end of my days to lie next to you. I would never see it as an obligation.” Jon drew a shaky breath and asked what his heart wanted to know…and what his heart feared. “But what of you, Sansa? Am I merely an obligation? I should like to think…in time, you could lay with me and not see it as nothing but another duty. I would wish to please you.”

“I want to please you. As for my pleasure…I don’t know if that’s possible for me, Jon,” she said resignedly.

She heard his sigh and could see the sad look on his solemn face. But as the truth of his words sunk in, Sansa realized that Jon didn’t just want her body. He didn’t want her to lie there and passively accept his seed. He wanted her to want him, too. He wanted her to enjoy what they did together when they coupled. The thought sent a flicker of some long-buried need coursing through her blood. Perhaps she was not dead to desire after all.

“I’m willing to try though…with you,” she finished with a shy smile.

His lips quirked into a smile. “I could…I could make it pleasant for you, I think. If you’ll let me try.”

She nodded and started to remove her shift but he stilled her hands. “Just a moment. We’ll see to that in a moment…but first, a sweet kiss,” he said before he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own.

Tender, loving kisses, sweeter than any treat, his firm, full lips caressed hers and made her heart sing. He kissed her cheeks and jaw and neck before he returned to her lips once more and Sansa felt short of breath.

A flame heated her blood and Sansa found she wanted more kisses, deeper ones. Jon slid his tongue in her mouth before she even realized she had parted her lips to him. His tongue was warm and wet. He tasted of ale but she found it pleasing. He explored her mouth but it was not the trespass that another’s kisses had been. She liked these kisses.

Jon forgot about his small clothes and placed both hands around her waist to draw her nearer. His manhood grew hard beneath his tunic as he delved Sansa’s sweet mouth. Her lips were more delightful in reality than he had ever dreamed…though he had dreamed of them a good deal.

Sansa linked her hands behind his neck, keeping him to her as they kissed and kissed. She was aflame now with want. She blushed when she noticed that she had grown wet at the apex of her womanhood and hoped that Jon would not be shocked by it.

When he pulled back for a moment to catch his breath, she lay back upon the furs again. But this time she beckoned him to her.

“Make love to me, my husband. Make me your wife in more than just name.”

Jon nodded and shed his tunic and small clothes. Her eyes widened at the sight of him and he told himself once more to place her needs above his own.  He was desperate with desire but he could go slow for her.  He could work to please her.

He rucked up her shift to expose her creamy thighs and then the auburn curls covering her mound. He slid a hand along her leg and she spread her legs for him. He moaned when he saw the evidence of her arousal glistening between her folds.

“I will. I will make love to you, my beautiful wife. But first, a sweet kiss,” he said as he lowered his head to her sex.

“A sweet kiss?” Sansa queried right before she felt his lips and tongue upon her pearl. “Oh!” she cried at this deliciously unexpected sort of kiss. This was too much. She had to hold on to something. She grasped his curls and sighed his name as he swept her legs up over his broad shoulders. “ _Ahhh_ …yes…” she moaned soon after. “ _Ohhh_ , Jon. I like… _mmm_ …your sweet kisses, my love.”

Jon did not reply. He merely gave her another sweet kiss…and another...


End file.
